The immense structure of information underwent violent changes. The information at the back constantly interacted with the information at the front, driving the whole to refresh without cease. The entire process was like a colossal mathematical equation, with numbers and symbols from its latter half continually moving to the front, changing the equation as a whole.
The reason so many modern theories could only hold true within mathematical space was that, in mathematical space, the past and future actually existed at the same time.
In a sense, the spacetime laboratories of the three great civilizations carried a hint of mathematical space—but only a hint. Numbers possessed no power, whereas real spacetime held immense inertia and force.
Replace a number in mathematical space, and it was effortless. The number would not leap up and beat you up. But do the same in real spacetime, and you would get beaten up.
Thus, the laboratories of the three great civilizations could only settle for the next best thing: dividing the timeline into small segments to minimize spacetime's corrective force as much as possible.
Information itself had no inertia, but Zhao Cheng's previous calculations had supplied a kind of computational inertia. This was the last tiny shred of computational power that had yet to be exhausted, and it was this tiny shred that brought the information cluster—which should have dispersed—back to life.
The information cluster interacted with the Void and with countless living beings. These people seemed to travel through time, entering one era after another. Some became spacetime warriors like Zhao Dong; others became key figures of a certain age. In this way, the information world constructed by the entire information cluster began to move.
This movement was not necessarily wholly a good thing, but if it did not move, it would certainly